Best Sires Poems
I see Him in the plants and trees
With the flowers caressed by bees
I see Him in the ocean’s breeze
He is breathing life into all of these
I see Him in the birds who sing
In the faith He will always bring
I see Him in the joy of a Spring
He shines a light to which I cling
I see Him in the twinkle of a eye
In the azure sea of the dawn sky
I see Him in wonders He does imply
He is laughter whispered in a sigh
I see Him in the gladness of the sun
Within a light that will never be outdone
I see Him in the beauty which will stun
He is the miracle of serenity that is spun
I see Him in the moonlight and stardust
In the brilliance of righteousness I trust
I see Him in the feelings that will adjust
He is there in my heart, an absolute must
I see Him in the kindness He inspires
In the radiant love that He fires
I see Him in the soul who He sires
He is the only One my hope requires
I see Him in the pen of a writer
Within the words that are brighter
I see Him in the glory of a fighter
He is the prayer that feels lighter
I see Him in the silence of a dream
In the clear, cool liquid of a stream
I see Him in the reflection all agleam
He is the music to my song and theme
I see Him in the wonders all around
In the hearts and souls that do astound
I see Him in the city and the small town
He is the Father, Son and Spirit renowned
I see Him… in a smile, a sigh, a song
I see Him… in the light, the love, all lifelong
For the One who leads me out of the wrong
Back toward the faith, hope and love so strong
Categories:
sires, blessing, faith, god, hope,
Form:
Rhyme
Love and Pain
Decided to get married
I know it seems strange
For you would have expected
Love and affection to want to tie the knot
After all…they were similar
They socialized in the same set of word families
The artistonyms
Love and passion also wanted
To be forever joined
That everyone condoned and blessed
But, oh, how everyone laughed
At the strange request
Of Love and Pain
To be wed
“What’s wrong with your head?
You two are from different worlds
From antonym slums
You can’t unite
And become one!”
Love held on to Pain
And would not let her go….
He smiled a knowing smile
“There has never been
One of us without the other
We belong…
For only when you truly encounter Love
Will you experience Pain.”
Pain shed a tear
And yet she smiled
“Where Love exists
I hover near…
Have no fear
Our union will produce
Beautiful babies
Love sires Joy
A darling child
Love fathers Peace
And Tranquility, in turn
These are the children we will bear
But do beware
Love can’t survive, without Me
For how would He know
How would He be certain
That he is alive….and well
Were it not for ME!
And so Love and Pain
Were wed
Amongst great fanfare
It was a match made in heaven
For never did they depart
One from another
Love and Pain?
Not so insane
Everyone did testify
That one did not come
Without the other
They were tied together
Inseparable
Nothing could come between them
Except their little babies
The most beautiful mixed babies
That eye shall ever see!
Sweet harmony
Of Love and Pain
Who lived.......companionably ever after!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Categories:
sires, love, marriage, pain,
Form:
Personification
Within the chasm of the Chaos Seas,
That deep and shallow fiend Leviathan,
With surface envy swells and floods disease:
My blood's as rapid boiling cryogen.
A beastly instinct and a drowning doubt,
My love's base jealousy arouses hate,
A bittersweet feast and a chronic bout,
My love, at once, is hell and heaven's gate.
But can true love exist without false fears?
The one the other hand in hand are borne;
This revelation rouses out my dears:
If love, then fear to bear the cuckold's horns.
I trust distrust to scale the depths of thirst,
It sires desires, it questions which came first.
Categories:
sires, jealousy, love,
Form:
Sonnet
Ocracoke
the stallion rests
cloaked by sea
old sires fade
footsteps in the sand
are now few
.
Categories:
sires, nature,
Form:
Haiku
It was my ancestors who gave me
My spirit's glowing flame;
The image of grace, and an angels face
And the message of my name.
But it was all the men I loved
And not my ancient sires
Who put in my heart a flickering flame
And the dazzling rainbow fires.
I always wanted more from them
Than they were willing to give;
But now we go our separate ways
Each with different lives to live.
As the wreckage now is burning
That's found in the crimson blaze;
There shines in the sky’s blue splendor
Sweeter and brighter days.
Categories:
sires, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Into thy hands, I commend my fate, not heart
Only from my heart I can preserve my pride.
Into thy hands, only fate, not all of me part
My one and only precious heart is where I ride.
Into thy hands, my commended fate flourishes, rests
But my sole heart stays, blooms in my soul that nests.
Destiny is not fate without life's purpose
Purpose grows in heart and soul, fate sires purpose.
Categories:
sires, fate, journey, life,
Form:
Ottava rima
Kindness blends with kindness
Anger sires anger
Mindfulness lingers with reason
Affection grows in caring and charity
Laziness retards inspiration
Abstinence dissolves patriotism...
Categories:
sires, anger, appreciation, care, change,
Form:
Acrostic
Fires burning, burning bright.
Not for warmth or even light.
Burning flesh seared to the bone.
Was this the sense of martyrdom?
Mary Tudor was the Queen,
return of Popery her dream.
Henry's child without a doubt,
her fathers deeds to turn about.
Men and women, loosing life,
butchers son and bakers wife.
Bishops, clerics, Lords and sires,
Not one spared the holy fires.
Thomas Cranmer was her aim,
he caused her mother so much pain.
Anne Boleyn's most errant knight,
causing Mary's own sad plight.
Hooper, Ridley, Cranmer too,
English folk, all good and true.
All subsumed to appease her bile,
sacrificed on the stakes woodpile.
Fourteen score souls finally died,
entering the flames with pride.
Heretics, each and every one.
Assured of joining God's own son.
As death became well-nigh routine,
The people cried God Save the Queen.
But they, in their hearts, were wary,
amongst themselves called her Bloody Mary.
Categories:
sires, faith, history, religion,
Form:
Ballad
All time records set
On the track you were the best
Secretariat.
*Dedicated to one of the fastest racehorses of all time,
and one of the most prolific sires of all time-
Secretariat March 30, 1970 - October 4, 1989.
A. Green
Categories:
sires, animals
Form:
Haiku
From alpha to omega,
From leader to the led,
A slow, relentless fall from grace
Means all that’s left is death.
Once you ruled with steely gaze,
A proud and fearless growl;
Courageous stance and quicksilver mind,
A flawless, stealthy prowl.
Once proudest of sires, most treasured of mates,
Now widowed, aged, bowed;
You follow the pack that once you led;
Your children rule you now.
In time, a time not far away,
You’ll leave the pack and roam.
All alone, you’ll lead again,
And death will bring you home.
Categories:
sires, beautiful, character, courage, destiny,
Form:
Rhyme
Mystical the old Hill standing
Over it thick mist hazing
Kids, we were at its foot playing
In a large green meadow dallying
Heedless, innocence enjoying
The Hill’s slopes utterly ignoring
In youths, up we were growing
The Hill in our eyes was swelling
The mist little by little retreating
An enthralling Hill gradually unveiling
Majestic it stood there really tempting
The pasture we were all forsaking
One day at its bottom standing
Our sires admiringly observing
The Hill’s slopes they were climbing
The top in sight yet remote looking
A desire, inside, our minds seizing
To conquer the peak an urging longing
The meadow in our hearts dying
To venture up the Hill all our wanting
Vernal, conceited the worst choice making
A steep, sharpest inclination challenging
Soon unknown hardships we were facing
Feet down the slope perilously sliding
Fingernails for a grasp breaking
A helping hand around searching
Bruises our skin covering
The price we were told for learning.
That was only the beginning
Harder moments later we were enduring
Helpless we saw our sires one by one down falling
Yet the ascent wasn’t just sadness and mourning
Dear kids in the meadow our places taking
Their sinless smiles our hearts warming
To green flowery fields for a rest inviting
Peaceful sweet- scented fields, regenerating.
Categories:
sires, lifegreen,
Form:
Behind my brows are horror scenes
Each blink am drifted in oblivion deep
In the fear archives within my genes
As cold trepidations in my heart creep
Beaming vivid horror acts of slavery.
Behind my brows I hear black souls
Wailing desperately in quandary state
Mothers nurse their toddler's sores
The custodians of the future's fate
Heavy load their tender shoulders bear.
Behind my brows I see dark images
Frantically wobbling under heavy wood
Whip driven further from their villages
Chained animals they're misunderstood
In the worst humanity servitude
Behind my brows fear hatchet it bears
Hides in wait to murder my black ego
Maybe I'm the off spring the feeble sires?
Or am the pious to white man's credo
Too scared in inferiority complex.
Behind my brows a distant flame glows
The rich jungle in between is my fear
Who will extinguish it when it's close?
Who will solicit loud that all can hear?
Who will unhinge the mind shackles bear?
Categories:
sires, africa, art, black african
Form:
Couplet
Placid pond, the stillest place on earth.
Don't hate the pond scum, appreciate it's worth.
If you want to be with me, then just be with me.
I am the pond scum, please hear me.
With a belly full of fire, how easily we conspire.
Don't mean to call you a liar but the pond scum sires.
Stay away, it's mud you seek not wine.
Wine has you flapping your gums about the plight of the water hole.
I'm the pond scum, chains run through and around me.
The muskrats they found me.
I am the pond scum, green in color.
Angered and abhorred, but I am your brother
.
I am the pond scum, I walk with breeze
I am the pond scum, purity through disease. I am the pond scum, true to form.
I am the pond scum, the silent storm.
Overgrown path, concealing overgrown frog prince.
The children use an awl to cup away the ice;the torpid muskrat freed, at the party he is me.
Modern Sophocles he sees, but at the party he is me.
You ask him can he hear it? There is a reeking spirit. It takes the small an makes it all complex; The overgrown path, concealing overgrown frog prince.
Journey with me, through all space and time; Return to self and you will find.
I am the pond scum, I walk with breeze.
I am the pond scum, purity through disease.
I am the pond scum, true to form.
I am the pond scum, the silent storm.
Categories:
sires, analogy,
Form:
Lyric
Our sire from heaven spoke and spat into oblivion.
His seeds cultivated eggs speedily mating in beds.
Abundant wives would sometimes spell disaster.
The lost children would forever search,
their sires beginnings that can never be reached!
Mother earth remains and seldom complains.
Till the diggers shoved lanes into her very veins.
Precious parts squandered in terrible plunders,
the young had developed their mothers sick habits!
Coughing and erupting in sores and destruction.
The more they took,the whores of kings and crooks!
Every infection had reactions for good or ill attractions!
Categories:
sires, childhood,
Form:
Number 38
THE MAN
Heed this fancy refrain
The child fathers the man
We come and go again
The father's child sires grand
Leon Enriquez
27 January 2015
Singapore
Categories:
sires, character,
Form:
Epigram